Empty Spaces
by Kalira69
Summary: Something drives Tobirama out of bed late into the night; it isn't exactly Madara's place to soothe it, no more than it was to put him to bed, but . . . well, someone needs to. Why not him? (Pre-relationship.)


"What are you doing?" Madara asked, squinting a bit at the light in the kitchen.

Tobirama mumbled something and moved a tea cup without apparent reason. There was a kettle on the stove and another cup set before him.

Madara edged closer to the window and looked out at the calm night, then back at Tobirama. "No," he said after a moment, "I don't think you need tea. Didn't you tell your brother you were going to bed hours ago?" he asked, rounding Tobirama up with an arm across his chest, nudging him back from the counter. Tobirama looked at him blankly.

Madara switched off the stove and moved the kettle away from the heat, wondering why Hashirama's complaints about his brother's habits hadn't included this. He had gotten out of bed after being mildly disturbed by someone wandering about, sensing more than hearing it, but it seemed no one else in the house was awake, only Tobirama. "You need to go to bed." he said slowly and clearly, and got a delayed blink and even slower focus from Tobirama.

". . .right." Madara gently took hold of Tobirama by the arm, prepared for a violent reaction at the contact, but he stayed calm. Madara put a hand to his lower back and nudged, surprised when Tobirama docilely allowed himself to be steered out and through the main room.

"Madara?" Tobirama didn't stop walking as he spoke, but he did tilt his head to look at Madara. "You. . . Why are _you_. . ."

"Someone should." Madara said gruffly, ducking his head and letting his hair fall forward. He was only a temporary guest in the Senju household, this really wasn't his place - he and Tobirama weren't even friends, only recently having slid into something of a cordial relationship rather than combative - but. . . Well, Tobirama looked dead on his feet. _Someone_ apparently needed to put him to bed, and if no one else was going to step up then Madara would do it himself.

Tobirama relaxed the moment he stepped through his own bedroom door, tension Madara hadn't even noticed him carrying easing away. Madara shook his head as he ushered Tobirama towards his waiting bed. "Go on, time to rest, you stubborn icicle." he said, voice low.

Tobirama yawned, letting Madara nudge him to the bed and in it, tucking his long legs up without complaint. Madara drew the kakebuton over him without thinking, smoothing it out and tucking it up past his shoulders. He sighed, lashes fluttering as he turned his head and shifted a little, hips twisting.

"Oyasumi." Madara said almost out of habit, fighting a smile and shaking his head again - Tobirama could look _cute_, who would have thought. Then he straightened and turned away.

He stopped immediately as a warm hand caught his wrist, and looked back at Tobirama, meeting sleepy red eyes. "Stay?" he asked, in a tiny voice. Madara's own eyes widened. "You're . . . warm."

Madara fought back his first several reactions. And a sputter. "You- So are you! You're fine, just- Go to sleep, Tobirama!" he half-ordered.

"Not like that. . ." Tobirama sighed, but dropped his hold on Madara anyway. "Sorry." he offered, breaking their gaze.

Madara hesitated for long moments, then stepped closer again, inwardly cursing himself all the while. Tobirama looked sad and . . . longing?

Madara growled silently at himself. "What _do_ you mean?" he asked anyway, and Tobirama slanted a look at him from beneath lashes like spreading frost.

"You're . . . warm." Tobirama said again, but this time a ripple of foreign chakra swept over Madara, taking his breath away before it receded in a quiet wave. "It's . . . empty. In here."

Madara, recovering from the feeling - Tobirama's chakra washing over him so completely; it had been . . . intense - eyed him dubiously. "Your senses stretch halfway across Hi no Kuni. I _know_ that, Tobirama."

Tobirama sighed and stretched out a hand, fingertips brushing the wall. A moment later glowing seals flared into being on every wall, the floor, and the ceiling. "I . . . Anija is too much, I can hardly sleep when I can feel him," Tobirama said softly, "but with everything shut away. . . It's . . . cold." He turned onto his side, away from Madara. The seals began to fade away. "Never mind, I apologise. Good night, Madara."

Madara rocked back on his heels, processing Tobirama's words. Hashirama was a little much even for him, admittedly, and his sensor abilities were much lesser than Tobirama's nigh-unheard of strength. Madara glanced at the once more unremarkable walls, then carefully extended his senses.

And hit a wall. _Nothing._

Madara took a few moments to recover himself from the harsh . . . _lack_, drawing his senses back in. He looked at Tobirama. The impressiveness of the sealwork aside. . . It felt jarring even to Madara - for Tobirama it must be so much worse. Even compared to the sensory 'noise' that buffeted him outside the seals, surely. But. . .

_You're warm._

Madara winced, then . . . tentatively untucked a bit of the kakebuton, sliding in under it behind Tobirama before he could think better of the decision.

Tobirama startled, twisting to look at him, and Madara let the kakebuton fall back down over them both, moving a hand carefully to rest on Tobirama's waist.

"I'll stay." he said simply.

Tobirama stared at him for a moment, then hurriedly turned away, ribs hitching. Madara bit his lip, fretting a little, but a moment later Tobirama moved backwards, tucking himself close against Madara's chest even as he kept his face turned away. "Thank you." he murmured, voice a little thick, and Madara relaxed a fraction further, patting his hip.


End file.
